


Absence of the Heart

by Daiyashi



Category: Vocoloid
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:21:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29014260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daiyashi/pseuds/Daiyashi
Summary: This is inspired (and based on) The song Kokoranashi. Particularly, the version covered by the Jpop artist, Sou. I do hope you enjoy, and please follow the link provided to Sou's music video. It is, in my personal opinion, the best and most coveying of the Kokoranashi covers. (Even more so than the original version I dare say.)





	Absence of the Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Kokoranashi](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/749571) by Sou. 



> Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6KNPNJHrv9I  
> This is based on the song and its lyrics! I do not own the original idea!
> 
> (Sorry, it may be all over the place, and not make any sense. The song's lyrics were hard to interoperate and write as dialogue without repeating. Please, try and pay no mind to it.

Blue lights. blue, bright, dazzling light. Grey flooring. Cold, hard, dull grey flooring. Yellow chairs. 4, ugly, tall wooden yellow chairs. Pink streamers. Long, dangling, delicate pink streamers. Red stains. Ugly, horrid, sickening red stains.  
These are my memories. They repeat. I walk down the street, and there I see horrific, dazzling blue lights. I sit in the Diner, and there I see the cold, hard, soulless grey flooring. I ride in a taxi cab from dawn to evening, and there I see ugly yellow, leather-covered chairs. ...Seats, I suppose you'd call them. Ah, yes... You. You always called things such unique, eloquent names. Those blinding blue lights which I hated so much, the lights I once called ugly. You'd simply smile at, with a gasp of amusement. No, amusement simply does not explain your expression. More... Amazed. yes, amazed. That's it. You'd stare at those cold, empty, dazzling blue lights, and, rather than saying anything along the lines of my thoughts. You would smile, and exclaim, "What beautiful lights!" You always did have a way of turning something stomach-churning into a beautiful, artistic sight. All with simple words, just words. Empty, or bursting with emotions. Neither mattered. Rather, the fact they fell from your lips. Your lips, in your voice, with your face hidden behind them.  
...That is, until you stopped. You fell mute, suddenly. Yes, mute is the only way to describe it. Words which once fell from your lips with a beautiful sound, and a sweet, sunshine-tone. Those magical words, now silent. Your lips would still move with grace, and your voice would still echo, breaking sound with a ringing tone. But... They were silent. It was not as if I could not hear them, no. It was more like your words were not yours. They were a stranger's, with a stranger's tone. Cold, hollow words. EMotionless words which I... could not hear. I could not hear your words, no. Instead, I heard the words of an empty, broken person. Words much like mine.  
Your hair always fell in such a way that would appear messy, yet beautiful. It was not a heinous mess that would cause one to question your home or hygiene. No, nothing of the sort. It fell gracefully, curls entangling with one another until they were so tightly wound, yet so loose that they would repel each other. This sight always pained me. Not as though I had been physically harmed, no. Rather... As though you had stolen something from me. Taken something precious that was suppressed, and locked it away. Away, and out of my reach.  
Oh, how I despised this...talent of yours. This talent you possessed, a talent which could twist me and my emotions into tightly wound knots, much like your hair. Such beautiful, elegant hair.  
Your eyes were always so brightly illuminated with a hope. A hope for the world, for those around you. A hope that could lighten somebody's world, once shrouded in darkness, with a dreadfully bright positivity. Such clear, bright eyes. Eyes which I envy. I envy their hopefulness, joy, and light. It's like... an eternal positivity captivated in bright green orbs.  
No matter what I do, nor how hard I try, I cannot erase this feeling. This feeling so tight in my chest, it restricts my breathing. It tightens, strangling me until I can no longer breathe. Oh, how I despise this feeling. This feeling that embraces me with both pain, and a feeling I cannot describe. So warm, yet harmful;l. But it is not painful. It does not hurt me, not in the slightest. God, how I hate it. So pleasant, yet so cruel.  
So, how do I forget? Should I forget, these feelings would disappear. It would vanish, along with the memories. The memories of your beautiful hair, luminescent eyes, and graceful words. All these things, all these magnificent things that bring me such pain. I could...simply erase them all. So, how should I forget?... How do I make all these horrible things go away, so I no longer have to feel them. Envision them. remember them. Need them...

If I were to describe the pain in one's chest... I'd describe it as a wretched azure blue. Crisp, and light. So awfully light. That is what I feel from you. What is it? What do I call it, name it? Does it even have a name?

As these thoughts race through my mind, I find smiling to be a trying task. So I cannot help but wonder if forgetting you, the blue light, grey flooring, yellow chairs, pink streamers, red stains, all of it. Would the smile I see gracing so many other faces around me, would it come easy to me as it does to them. ...To you?

A cool autumn breeze ruffles a solemn-faced boy's hair. It blows it in many directions, framing his slender face with a kind of elegance. This boy, slender and cold to the touch, stands at the incline of a small flowering hill. He stands, watching a much smaller, yet just as thin girl. His cool grey-blue eyes trace her features, guiding along every individual strand of strawberry-blonde, brown hair. The cold eyes trace over her brightly glowing green eyes, slowly falling into a daze of wonder and confliction. This boy, eyes icy and drained, face slender and solemn, hair light and messed, was utterly confused by the girl and how she makes him feel.

A boy with eyes frozen in time, and a figure slender like a child's, holds himself. He knows not of comfort or joy. He knows no sense of freedom or love. All he knows is self and cruelty. ...And the girl. The girl who hugged him, held him in a tight embrace and refused to let go. She had noticed. She had noticed this invisible boy's welling tears which filled his eyes. Eyes once glazed over with a sheet of uncaring ice, now melting and filling with tears of unknown origin.  
It had happened on Tuesday morning, April 5th. It was a cold and rainy morning, during math class like every other. Only, this time, something had happened. the boy was lost in a blizzard of hazy thoughts, staring out the window at the sleek raindrops racing towards the ground. His eyes showed no sign of life, and his face remained expressionless and dull. He only spared a moment's glance, but in that slight moment, the boy went from empty and drained to frozen in place with dreadful tears welling his eyes. Why? Well, he had no reason. no reason at all to produce such wretched tears. They had just begun to bubble into glossy, clear orbs.  
The boy was like a ghost, a phantom presence in the class. Nobody ever noticed him, or his being there. But when he stood and began his walk to the bathroom. The girl, eye filled with hope, traced his steps. she followed after the solemn boy. That was when it had happened.  
Pen hit the floor with a muffled clink.  
Chair following soo after.  
Footsteps pounding in sync, one after the other.  
Breathing once slow and paced now ereadic.  
The girl wrapped her arms around the boy's small frame. She held him, or so it felt. She did not embrace his physically. She trailed after him, calling out.  
"Hey, are you alright?"  
4 simple words.  
They caught the boy, stopping him in his tracks.  
how does one respond to such a question?  
it had been so long since he had been addressed, let alone asked how he was.  
He turned, tears now no more than stains tracing his cheeks, and nodded.  
He did not trust such a cold, monotonous voice as his to answer such a warm question.

The girl did not trust such a gesture.  
She knew better than to let a nod suffice as an answer.  
She took 1 step,  
then 2,  
then 3,  
then 4...

The boy was chilled, cold, and invisible.  
The girl was sunny, warm, and enticing.  
The two could be no different.  
But what matter does this truly hold?  
That's right, there is none.

_If I were to have heart, a heart such as yours... Though, I doubt it'd suffice to anything more than a stone on the road._   
_Even so, I do wish I had one._   
_But, where is my heart..?_   
_If I were to have one. where would it be?_

> 'Why, it's right here.'

The girl wore a slight smile, damp with the boy's sadness.

> "I can stay, if you like. We don't have to talk. ...I know even somebody being there helps."

_Ah... here it is._   
_Right here, that is where it would be._   
_Right here with you._


End file.
